Dark Summer

CHAPTER 5

HE CALLED BRIDGET TEN MINUTES later as he was heading for the highway. "They hit the clinic. They came up empty, so they're probably heading back out to the farm. They'd figure that's where Devon would run."

"I didn't think they were still here at the farm. They were in the woods, but I don't feel anything now… Ned's okay?"

"Fine." He looked back at the Lab, who was now curled up and lying beside Devon Brady with his head on her arm. "And so is Devon. She's got a wound on her neck, but I think it's only a scratch. At least, she'll be fine when she wakes up. Did you send someone to pick up Gilroy?"

"Yes. Now there's only the last bit to do at the farm." She paused. "If they think your Devon's here, they'll try to stop us. How much time do I have?"

"Probably fifteen minutes tops."

"If they come after us, I'm not going to hold back, Marrok."

"I'm not asking you to. I just want you all out of there in one piece." His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I'm taking Devon and Ned to the Nevada ranch. When you finish up, I want you there, too."

"I'll be there… after I find Fraser." She paused. "There's no sign of him yet."

"Bridget."

"I have to make sure, Marrok." She hung up.

And risk getting her throat cut while she searched for him, Marrok thought in frustration. Well, he could do nothing now. He had to trust that she'd be all right.

He dialed Walt Franks to tell him to find a place for the he li copter to pick them up somewhere between here and Denver.

"I PUT THE PIG IN THE VAN earlier. You round up the other animals," Bridget said to Larry Farland as she stuffed her phone in her jacket. "I'll take care of the housekeeper."

"Right. I saw three dogs down at the paddock." Larry motioned to two of the team to follow him and disappeared around the corner of the house.

Bridget whirled and went up the steps to the kitchen door. Get it over quick. She wished to hell she had a sedative or chloroform, but they'd moved too fast to get any supplies when Marrok had called. She'd just have to make it fast.

Janet McDonald was standing at the stove with her back to Bridget when she quietly opened the door.

"Is that you, Nick?" Janet's gaze never left the pot of stew she was stirring. "You might as well sit down and have some lunch. Though you don't deserve it. It was careless leaving that gate open. Did you find the donkey?"

"No, he didn't."

Janet stiffened, then looked over her shoulder. "What the dev il are you doing here? Don't you kids believe in knocking?"

Though she was twenty-five, it wasn't the first time Bridget had been mistaken for a teenager. It didn't matter. Sometimes her small stature and baby-smooth skin came in handy. People usually trusted in the innocence of youth. She smiled gently. "I did knock. You must not have heard me."

The woman's eyes narrowed on her. "Nothing's wrong with my hearing. What do you want?"

Bridget could practically feel the other woman's tension. She had carefully kept any hint of aggression out of her demeanor, yet the housekeeper was sensing a threat. "I'd like you to go with me. Something's happened. Devon needs you."

"And you're a lying bitch. If Devon needed me, then she'd call and tell me so. Get out."

This was not going to be easy. Marrok had said to be careful. How to do it without hurting her?

"Is that her dog, Gracie?" Bridget asked as she came toward her. Gracie was a piece of cake. She wanted to love everybody. Her tail thumped wildly, and she ran toward Bridget. "Nice pooch."

"She's okay. No taste in people," Janet said. "I told you to leave. I'm not buying what you're selling."

"I'm sorry I intruded." She was standing next to the woman now. She was wishing again they'd had time to pick up an anesthetic. This was not going well. One more try. "I'm no threat to you. It's really best if you come with me."

"I'm the only one who knows what's best for me." The housekeeper stared her coldly in the eye. "You look all fresh-faced and butter could melt in your mouth. But my ex-husband used to bring home sweet-faced little foxes like you, and I know what's behind that smile. What are you up to?"

Dammit, Bridget didn't have time to try to persuade her. She started to turn away. "If you want me to go, then I'll-" She whirled back, with her hand arcing in a karate blow to the woman's neck.

But Janet blocked her hand and backhanded her across the face.

Dear God, she was fast.

Bridget dove for her legs to bring her down.

And felt hot stew splashing down her back as Janet knocked the pot on top of her.

Pain. Ignore it. Bring her down.

Forget being careful. She punched her in the stomach.

The housekeeper gasped and staggered back.

Bridget jumped up and brought down the side of her hand in the karate chop that had been blocked before.

The woman crumpled and fell to the floor.

Bridget was panting as she looked down at her. Good God, the woman was tough. The re sis tance had been a surprise.

A painful surprise. Her burned back was stinging from the hot liquid of the stew.

Forget it. No time. They had to get the woman bound and in the truck. She took the cord from her pocket and quickly tied Janet's hands behind her back. Gracie was sitting, looking at her in bewilderment. "It's okay. I know you're confused. You got all those good signals from me, then your friend is hurt." She put her hand on the dog's forehead. "It's what should be happening. Everything is fine, Gracie." She got to her feet. "Come on, we'll take you to Devon."

Larry was loading the dogs into the van when she opened the door. "Take Gracie up front. She's nervous."

"The housekeeper?"

"In the kitchen. Be careful with her. She's a tiger."

"So I see." Larry was looking at her soaked shirt and red arms. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Just get out of here. You have ten minutes."

"We'll be out of here in five."

"Good, I'll see you back at the motel where we're supposed to pick up Gilroy." She started for the woods. Then she had a thought and said over her shoulder, "The parrots. They have to be somewhere in the house. Be sure to get them."

"For God's sake, the van will look like Noah's ark." Larry sighed as he ran up the steps and into the house. "I'll go after them now."

Larry would be true to his word, Bridget thought, her eyes on the woods ahead. He was a good man and he'd see that the farm was deserted before Danner's men got there.

Fraser had been a good man, too.

She was already thinking past tense. Don't give up.

There was still a chance.

She could be wrong.

She wasn't wrong.

She found Fraser on the side of the path only a hundred yards from the tree line. His eyes were open and staring sightlessly up at the sky. There were five bullet wounds in his body, and the last had been the fatal one. It had pierced his heart.

A DOG WAS whining somewhere…

Sad…

Why didn't someone stop it? Devon wondered. All it took was a loving stroke, a word…

Whining. Closer.

She would have to do it herself.

She forced herself to open her eyes.

Ned. His silky black head was lying on her bed, and his brown eyes were only a foot from her face. Wise eyes. Worried eyes. "It's okay," she whispered. She reached out a hand and rubbed the spot between his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't wake up soon enough for him."

Her gaze flew from Ned to the man sitting in the easy chair across the room, legs stretched out before him. Close-cut dark hair, high cheekbones, and an air of contained intensity.

Marrok.

Shock rippled through her.

She jerked upright on the couch as memory came flooding back to her. "My God, what the hell have you done?"

"Kidnapping?" He got to his feet, and she was once more aware of that catlike grace she'd noticed when she'd first met him. "I guess it could be termed that. I just did what I had to do to keep you alive."

Her gaze flew around the room. Cushiony beige tapestry furniture with punches of red. Wide floor-to-ceiling windows across one wall of the room. "Where am I?"

"Not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. My ranch in Nevada."

"Nevada." She suddenly remembered the sharp pain in her arm. "You bastard. You gave me a shot to knock me out."

"It was either a shot or a more physical method to take you out of action. I figured you'd be angry no matter what I did, and the shot was more con ve nient for me."

Anger seared through her. "And that's what it's all about, isn't it? What's con ve nient for you and your dog."

He met her eyes. "Yes, that's what it's all about. I'm not going to hurt you. Believe me, I didn't want to involve you. It just happened."

Memories were bombarding her. A man's face exploding before her eyes through the splintered glass. "You killed a man."

"No, I killed a vermin." His glance fell to her neck. "Who almost killed you. I ban daged that cut on your neck, and it's nothing. But another inch, and we would have had a problem."

Her hand instinctively reached up and touched the ban dage. "Do you expect me to thank you? It's your fault that someone was trying to shoot me." Ned gave a low whine and pushed against her knee as she got to her feet. "Stop trying to soften me up, Ned." She pushed him away. "You've teamed up with the wrong person."

"He had no choice," he said wearily. "I was the only game in town for him. For all of them."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." She moved toward the door. "And I don't want to know. I'm going home."

"I can't let you do that," he said quietly. "There are guards outside. They won't hurt you, but they'll put you out again. I don't think you want that. You just want to know what's happening and get your life to go back to what it was." He shook his head. "It's too late for that. I'm the only game in town for you, too."

"You don't have anything to do with me." She opened the door. "And as soon as I get rid of you, I'll be-" She suddenly remembered the words she knew she had unconsciously tried to forget. She whirled on him. "Hugh and Terry. You said you didn't think they had a chance. It was a lie. That was just another part of the craziness you-" He wasn't answering, but his expression… Her stomach clenched with fear. "I don't believe you."

He was dialing his phone. "Will you believe Nick Gilroy?"

"Nick," she repeated. "Have you hurt Nick?"

"Ask him." He spoke into the phone. "Bridget, she needs to talk to Gilroy. Put him on." He handed Devon the phone. "They're on the road on their way here. He's calm and not afraid. You're the only one who can upset him. Your choice."

She slowly took the phone. "Nick?"

"Devon, thank God. I've been trying to phone you. I was afraid you were dead, too. The news report didn't mention your name, but I thought-"

"Dead, too?" She moistened her lips. "Nick, who's dead?"

Silence. "You don't know? I thought that was why you sent them to pick me up."

"Who's dead, Nick?"

"Hugh and Terry."

She inhaled sharply. "How?"

"The radio said that they were shot several times at close range. Possible burglary. There were narcotics stolen. The clinic was ransacked."

"In broad daylight?'

"Drug addicts aren't rational. You know several vet offices were victimized last year."

But no one had been murdered. No one had marched in and cold-bloodedly shot two people.

"But it wasn't burglary, was it, Devon?" he asked. "You wouldn't have sent someone to get me away from there if it had been a simple theft."

She didn't bother to tell him that she had not been the one to get him out of the area. She seemed to be webbed in lies, and there was no point in making Nick anxious when she didn't know his situation. "No, it wasn't a drug steal. You're sure they're dead, Nick?"

Silence. "What do you want from me? I didn't see them. I only know what I heard on the car radio on our way here. I was shocked as hell. I liked both of them."

So had she. "No suspects?"

"Three men were seen driving away in a dark blue sedan a few minutes before the police arrived. There was blood on the ground in the back lot, but they didn't find a body. The cops had received an anonymous 911 tip." He paused. "But they were too late."

Too late. Two lives ended in the space of a few minutes. "Terry was only twenty years old," she said dully. "She had a hot date tonight. She was going to go get a pedi-" She drew a deep, shaky breath. "I can't believe it, Nick."

"Neither can I. What's happening, Devon?"

What was happening was that the world was spinning around and upside down. "I'm not sure. I'm going to have to find out." She roused herself to ask, "You're okay, Nick? They're treating you well?"

"Sure." Then he added, puzzled, "Why wouldn't they?"

"No reason. I'll talk to you soon, Nick." She hung up the phone. She was so stunned that she couldn't think clearly. "He said he'd been trying to reach me."

"I turned off your phone."

"You shouldn't have done that. Good Lord, what am I saying? That's the smallest part of what you're guilty of. Two people are dead."

"I had nothing to do with killing them. I tried to keep them alive." He paused. "But, yes, I was probably to blame."

"You admit it."

"I guessed wrong. I thought they'd attack the farm even if it meant waiting for you. They must have had orders to escalate. That meant going wherever you'd taken Ned."

Escalate. Such a slick word to mean what Marrok meant. "Why? For God's sake, why?" She lifted her hand to her head. "It's all-it's too bizarre, too ugly. It doesn't make sense."

"It makes sense." He stared at her a moment, then turned away. "You need some space. I'll go make a pot of coffee." He jerked his thumb at a door across the room. "Why don't you go into the bedroom and take a shower. I told Bridget to get you some clothes to wear."

"Who's Bridget?" Then she remembered he'd spoken to a Bridget on the phone before he'd let her talk to Nick. "She's your accomplice."

"You might say that. She works for me. But she wouldn't like the idea of being referred to as anyone's sidekick."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I'm not going to go anywhere, do anything, until you answer my questions. Why did you take Nick?"

"For his safety and because I didn't want him used against you."

"Then, if it was for his own good, he'll be free to go?"

Marrok shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Then you're the one using Nick against me. You know I can't make a move against you until I know he's safe."

"The thought did occur to me."

"Damn you."

"But it wasn't why I had him taken. I told you the reason."

"And I don't believe you."

"That's your privilege. I hope you will soon. The situation is getting pretty dicey." He looked up from scooping coffee into the coffeemaker, and said quietly, "Whatever it seems, I don't wish harm to you and the people you care about. I've worked hard to keep them safe."

"Two fine people dead," she coldly. "You haven't worked that hard."

His lips twisted. "Someday try walking in my shoes. You'll find all you can do is give it your best shot."

"Are you going to let Nick go?"

"Yes, eventually." He turned on the coffeemaker. "After you shower and have coffee and pull yourself together, we'll discuss it."

His tone was flat and his face without expression. He wasn't going to be moved. "Ten minutes." She whirled and turned toward the bedroom. "And then I'm holding you to your word."

He smiled faintly. "And yet you believe I've lied to you and will probably continue to do so."

She stared back at him in frustration. It was true, how could she believe him? Yet she had to have some explanation, something to hold on to even if she questioned it. "I'm not a fool. I hope I'll be able to tell if you're giving me a bunch of bull."

He nodded soberly. "I hope so, too, Devon."

DEVON CLOSED THE BATHROOM DOOR and leaned against it.

She was shaking. Lord, she hoped Marrok hadn't noticed. She didn't want to show him the weakness she was feeling. All the time he'd been talking to her, she'd been aware of the quiet strength that surrounded his every word, every action. Yet beneath that quietness she'd caught glimpses of recklessness and a hint of darkness. It was a strange combination and much more intimidating than swaggering or bombastic speeches. She had to be just as strong. She had never felt that urgency before, never doubted her ability to meet anyone toe to toe. Why should he be different?

Crazy. Everything connected to Marrok was crazy and horrible and with no basis in reality. But she had to make it real. Cut through the bewilderment and be coolly logical.

Kidnapping was not logical. Men killing two innocent people wasn't logical. A lovable dog like Ned being shot wasn't logical.

But if Marrok wasn't a complete psychopath, then there was logic in all those events. She just had to find it.

So stop shaking. Go take that shower, and try to go over every bit of information you've managed to gather since Marrok brought Ned into the first-aid tent.

She stripped off her clothes and reached out her hand to turn on the hot water.

Hugh. Terry.

Tears were suddenly pouring down her cheeks. She sat down on the edge of the tub and rocked back and forth in an agony of despair. The shock had ebbed and left her emotions as naked as her body. She couldn't be logical now. Not until she was able to push this sorrow and regret into the background. She had to grieve for her two friends who had died this day.

IT WAS OVER AN HOUR LATER when Devon came out of the bathroom into the adjoining bedroom.

She stopped abruptly as she saw the brown-haired woman sitting in the easy chair across the room.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Bridget Reardon. I have to talk to you." She looked at the towel draped around Devon. "Go on and get dressed. I can wait."

"I can't." She tightened the towel over her breasts. "You were with Nick. Is he here?"

She nodded. "We just got in. He's getting something to eat down in the bunkhouse. We only grabbed sandwiches on the road. Marrok had us rushing to get here. He knew you'd be worried until you saw him."

Relief surged through her. "He was right. And I still haven't seen Nick. I'd rather talk to him than you."

She smiled faintly. "Marrok said you were suspicious as hell."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"No reason," she said bluntly. "You'd be stupid not to question everything we say or do. I'm just telling you that, believe it or not, I'm not lying. I don't want to be here talking to you, but it's Marrok's orders. He thought you'd take it better from me." She shrugged. "I don't know why. I'm great with animals, but I'm not real good with people."

She stiffened. "Take what better?"

"Danner burned your place to the ground."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"See, I told you I wasn't good at this."

"You're right," she said numbly. "You're lousy."

"I'd want to know everything up front. I thought you would too."

"I do." Her knees felt weak, and she sank down on the bed. "You're not-It's the truth?"

"I told you that I wouldn't lie. I was still in the woods and watched the house catch fire. The barn was already burning."

"Janet. Oh, God, my housekeeper, Janet McDonald."

"We got her away a little while before they came. The animals too."

"Gracie?"

"All of them. We took the donkey and the cats the night before. They're all being well taken care of by our people."

Devon was half-relieved, half-bewildered. "You took Casper the night before. You were planning this?"

"Marrok was doing the planning. I just follow orders. He said that when Danner found you, there'd be no holds barred, and he wanted to protect those you cared about."

"No holds barred." Two good people had died, and the place she called home had been destroyed. "I'd say that's an apt description."

"It's knocked you for a loop." Bridget's gaze was on her face. "I know that most people consider the destruction of a home as traumatic, but we did manage to get everyone out. That should mean something."

"Of course it does." She dazedly shook her head. "Why would they do it?"

"Cover forensic evidence, set an example, punish you for helping Marrok. Take your pick," Bridget said. "If Danner captured you, he'd want you softened up, tortured. He probably thinks you know something."

A surge of anger tore through Devon. "Then he'd think wrong. I don't know anything except I'm being moved around like a chessman and you people are making me a damn victim." Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, but she would not cry. "I won't let you do that. There have already been too many victims to whatever game Marrok is playing." She suddenly went on the attack. "And you're just as bad if you meekly do what he tells you."

"Meekly?" She was suddenly smiling. "No, Marrok wouldn't ever ask me to be meek. He knows me too well."

"But you obey orders."

"Yes, we all obey his orders. He keeps us safe." She paused. "And we keep him safe. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"From this Danner?"

"Yes, but if it weren't Danner, it would be someone else. Marrok's life is walking tightropes. He does it well."

"I don't care about Marrok and his tightrope."

"I know you don't. I wouldn't either. I'd feel raw and angry and violated." She rose to her feet. "I'm sorry your two friends were killed." Her lips tightened. "But you're not alone. We lost a man at your farm. A good man. He was reconnoitering the woods on your property trying to spot any of Danner's slimeballs. He was shot five times in the back."

"Marrok's tightrope evidently extends to the people who work for him. Maybe you should get the hell away from him."

Bridget shook her head. "We can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because working for Marrok is worth any risk."

"Money?"

"No." She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "I suppose it's because he makes us feel like knights from Camelot, the chosen to protect the castle."

She frowned. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"I'm just trying to tell you that, whatever you may think, Marrok is worth it." Bridget nodded. "And I've probably said too much. I have a habit of doing that. I just don't want you to feel alone. Marrok won't give an inch when it comes to anything connected with Ned, and he can be damned enigmatic." She headed for the door. "Come down to the bunkhouse and see your Nick and Janet. We're trying to keep them cheerful, but your housekeeper isn't going to be easily pacified. I couldn't persuade her so I had to use other means."

"You hurt her?"

"No more than she hurt me." Bridget opened the door. "I hope those clothes in the closet fit. I had to rely on Marrok's guess. But he's usually got a good eye."

"All these preparations down to the last detail," she said. "You were all planning on my coming here. None of this was spur-of-the-moment."

"Spur-of-the-moment can be fatal. We had plenty of time. Marrok knew you'd have to come the minute he left Ned with you. See you down at the bunkhouse." She looked back as she had an afterthought. "Your Gracie is having problems with the search and rescue missions. She's gentle and wants to do what you tell her, but it hurts her. She's not a natural."

Devon stared at her in astonishment. "How could you know that?"

Bridget shrugged. "I just do."

Devon stared at the door after it closed behind her. What a curious combination of toughness, belligerence, and sensitivity. She was clearly loyal to Marrok, yet Devon was having a hard time feeling antagonism for her. Her emotions were so mixed that she couldn't think straight.

He's worth it.

Camelot knights guarding the castle.

Well, she was no knight, and she felt as if she had been invaded and trampled by a ravaging army. It was time she stopped being a victim and turned and attacked.

She started getting dressed.